No Stone Left Unturned
by Lovesanime
Summary: Patrick Brown, an retired E-7 from the Army and now psychiatrist, must help Dean Winchester get back his mind. What is a high priest and shaman suppose to do when he has problems of his own? Set after Season five
1. What is Left Behind

**Disclaimer:** My playground. Supernatural character's are playing in it.

**Author's Note:** I'm trying my hand at not having any of my (overly strong and totally supernatural) characters in this story. The only character that I own in Patrick Brown whose is actually the name of my dad.

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**Chapter 1: What is Left Behind.**

"_This is Rick Brown. Leave a message,"_ the voice mail said. _"Press one to leave a message or…"_ Robert Singer pressed the one button on the phone.

"Rick, this is Bobby. Call me when ya get this message ya idjit," Bobby hung up then. The old hunter rubbed a hand down his face. "Damnit Rick. Dean needs yer help." Rick had called back several hours later.

"Singer Salvage," Bobby answered.

"_Bobby. This is Rick. Told me to call you? What's up?"_ Bobby's old friend answered.

"It's Dean. Rick. He's locked up and half out of his mind. I'm wonderin' if….."

"_You transfer him here. How did this happen?"_ Rick stated.

"He just lost his brother. Lisa called me and told me what happened. She found my number on his phone," Bobby explained.

"_Alright. Have him transferred. Meet me here. I want the full story,"_ Rick stated and then hung up. Bobby listened to the dial tone for a few more seconds before hanging up himself.

* * *

Half a Day Later…

Bobby spotted the brown haired, thirty-seven year old not far away. He was standing next to the doors to the asylum that Dean was transferred to. Patrick Brown adjusted his navy blue, turtle neck while straightening his lab coat. Leavenworth is probably the worst psychiatric hospital in Kansas that you could be in. This is where the worst criminally insane could go especially if the insane were former military. Rick had pulled in some favors to get Dean transferred there.

Rick brushed a hand through his short brown hair and with his other put a cigarette to his lips. He took a drag on it and blew out the smoke. The thirty-seven year old flicked some ash off and waited another minute before actually spotting Bobby coming his way.

"Ya know those things are going to kill ya," the old hunter stated.

"Hey would you rather have it be a hazard to my health or yours?" Rick shot back. Bobby put up his hands in surrender. The Brown dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it to put it out. Rick rubbed his eyes before opening them to reveal startling blue.

"So tell me what happened? From the beginning," Rick said while going inside. Bobby followed him.

"Find out that Sam was alive a few days before Lisa called. Lisa called me on Dean's cell and told me that he trashed the house, had a shot gun to his head, and was ramblin' on about going to see Sam in Hell," Bobby said. Rick led Bobby through a series of doors before stopping in front of his office. The blue eyed man opened it and entered. Bobby followed.

"Lisa had called the police before contacting me. Told me that Dean injured four officers before one knocked him unconscious," the old hunter explained. Rick sat behind his desk and Bobby took the seat in front of him.

"How did they get the shot gun away from before he could shoot it?" Rick asked. Bobby scoffed.

"Damn idjit didn't even have it loaded. That's what surprised me the most. Dean always had the guns ready and loaded." The Brown nodded. "I think the idiot has lost his mind. Lisa told me that Dean called the officers demons. Dean had started an exorcism but was knocked out by the officer. Lisa saw the whole thing. Scared the crap out of her and Ben. Lisa told me that the officers had him transferred to a hospital and the hospital released him to an asylum. That's when she looked through Dean's list and found my name," Bobby finished.

"And that's when you called me? Bobby…." The old hunter stood up and pointed at him.

"Ya owe me a favor Brown. Ya help Dean and I'll have this as 'favor repaid'," Bobby grunted. Rick took a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"All I can give you Bobby is 'we shall see'. With Dean's state of mind; I could estimate about a year or more before I can get him to actually think straight. I've read some of the file that I got on him. Doctor Smith had diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia. I may be a high priest and shaman Bobby, but I can't heal a mind that does not want to be healed," Rick explained. "I'll do the best to my abilities to help Dean but I can't heal without the permission of the person that needs to be healed."

"Ya get him better there doc or I'll have every hunter on your ass," Bobby threatened. Rick narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you threaten me Robert Singer. You saved me once and I owe you my life but if your anger is clouding your judgment then let me make it very clear to you. I will forget the debit I owe you and come after you personally. Now, if you need a place to stay my home is available," Rick said calmly. "You know where it is." Bobby nodded and left.

Rick let out a tired sigh and picked up the folder that Doctor Smith had mailed him. The file contained that Dean Winchester was at one point wanted by the FBI. When the FBI learned that had been emitted to a psych ward they dropped the charges as long as he (Dean) would still be incarcerated for several years. The Brown was surprised at how fast the motion was granted by a judge.

"Poor, demon possessed bastard," Rick muttered. "This going to be harder than I thought. Mind as well let Bobby know." Rick picked up his office phone and dialed the Singer's cell phone.

"Hey Bobby, I just read some of Dean's file. I'm letting you know that it might take longer for Dean to get out than we thought. The ABC agencies decided to drop the charges against him as long as he stays locked up. I'll talk to you later about it. Alright? Bye," Rick hung up the phone and lifted his gaze to a picture frame on his desk. The picture had two photos. One had his adopted daughter and her mother after his daughter's graduation. The other was a family portrait of him, his wife, and daughter. They both were dead; wife and daughter. The Brown rubbed his eyes to brush away any tears that decided to come forth. No sense in dwelling the past.

Rick scanned the next page after reading the intestinal charges on Dean. On top of the paperwork was Dean's arrest photo. Patrick raised an eyebrow at one piece of information.

"Dad was a Jar Head? That explains his combat skills. Wonder which one of the three jars that John's head fitted in? (1)" the Brown said jokingly. Rick started muttering out the facts on Dean. "Got a GED. Has a brother named Samuel. Brother graduated with a full ride to Stanford." The doctor took a notebook out of one of his desk drawers. He always kept a few, fresh, new notebooks on hand. Rick took a blue sharpie out of his pen holder and put Dean Winchester in tiny capital letters on the front of the green notebook. He lit the lettering dry before taking a pen, opening, and writing a few notes himself. He flipped through the pages on the file then wrote something else. Normally Rick would keep the copy and use the paper on file of his patients but something told him that it would be adamant to write something down. More for a spiritual sense if anything else.

* * *

Later That Night…

Bobby slept in the guest room which was once belonged to his daughter at one point before she died upstairs. Rick was sitting at his dinning room table reading his own notes. To his left was his Book of Shadows. The Brown heard his door wards go off but only he heard and grabbed reflexively for the bastard sword hanging on the wall behind him. The object was there other than being on display. He turned to come to face to face with a tall man with shaggy hair. The intruder was pointing a gun in his face. Rick reacted with Combatives he learned in the Army. He dropped the sword and it clattered onto the floor. The ex-soldier wrestled the man for the gun and put him in a choke hold. But not before the intruder gave him a black eye and a punch in the ribs.

"Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house?" The man beneath Rick grunted. "Talk or I'll start depriving you of air."

"Sam," the intruder choked out. Rick heard several guns cock but he didn't look up.

"Let my grandson go Patrick Brown," an older man gestured. The ex-soldier got up and let Sam go. Rick raised his hands up in surrender. He finally noticed who was in his house. Two men and a woman. The third man being the person Rick attacked earlier. The doctor looked at the older of the three. He looked enough to be his own grandfather.

"You know me but I don't know you," Rick stated. Sam was just getting up from the floor. The woman scoffed.

"Why don't you read our minds you bastard of a witch?" Rick glared at her comment.

"For one I not a telepath, that was my daughter. And two my mother was not a witch, a bitch yes because she earned it, but never a witch," Rick corrected.

"You're a high priest yes?" Sam asked rubbed his sore throat.

"I was. Just a priest. If you wanna get married you'll have to have the right paper work for it (2)," Rick said jokingly.

"We're not in the mood for your jokes. Tell us what we want to know and we'll be out of your hair," the younger of the three men stated while raising his gun. Rick smirked.

"More like torture the info outta me. I looked into my cards genius. Knew you guys would come sooner or later. I don't have the answers you seek. My gods have been quiet since Sammy-boy here and his brother started and ended the apocalypse," Rick stated while lowering his hands. Sam raised an eyebrow. "I figured it out when Bobby called me. He told me that Dean just lost his brother and now you're back. It doesn't take a genius to know what happened especially when you know about the supernatural."

"What do you know about my grandson?" the older male of the group asked. Rick came over to the dinning table and grabbed the folder containing Dean's file.

"Because he's in my care ass munch. If you've read about me then you should know that I'm a psychiatrist at Leavenworth," Rick said while putting the folder back down. "The FBI is now investigating into Samuel Winchester and has posted a reward on any info on him. They also gave me this information considering his brother is in my care." If they were all shocked they didn't show it.

'_Wow, good acting guys,' _Rick thought.

"Can I offer you anything?" the ex-soldier asked while going to his cupboards in his kitchen. The group looked at each other confused. "Coffee? Tea? Cookies?" Rick raised an eyebrow at them.

"You're not going to kill me when you know that I have one of your family in my care," the Brown stated.

* * *

After consulting and a decision was made Samuel Campbell and his grandson Sam were staying with Rick. The Brown had given the Campbell his room upstairs. Samuel was going to protest when the ex-soldier waved it off saying that he hardly used the bedroom anyway. Rick had just gotten up and poured himself a cup of coffee when there was a shout upstairs. He shrugged and proceeded in putting sugar and creamer in his warm brew. Sam was just coming the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Rick suggested while handing Sam an empty cup.

"Uh, sure," Sam poured himself a cup and watched as Rick went to the dining room table adjacent to the kitchen and sat in a chair. The folder and notebook still lay open on top the surface. Sam had taken a peek at the doctor's notes when Rick went to sleep on the sofa.

"So, Sam you mind telling me why you're missing a soul?" Rick asked without looking up. Sam looked at him surprised or thought he should feel surprised.

"I don't know….."

"Cut the bull shit Sam. I'm a shaman. I know these things," Rick leafed through his notes. "And I would mind if you didn't look at my notes." Sam came to the table and sat opposite of the Brown.

"Honestly I don't know. Frankly I think I should be worried but I'm not. I don't care about anything even my brother but I think I should." Rick finally lifted his gaze to look at him.

"I figured as much. I'll look into later. Right now Dean is my main concern," Rick took a sip of his coffee and really wanted his daughter's coffee. It wasn't the same as his and hers was that type of coffee that wasn't too strong or too weak. Right in between. The ex-soldier scratched an itch on his nose and let out a sigh. He looked at his watch sighed again. The Brown got up and went to get ready for work. When he came up the stairs he passed by Samuel and Bobby coming down.

"Coffee's in the pot," he called down and went to take a shower.

"Alright, Dean you need to take these. They'll make you feel a whole lot better," Rick said later that afternoon. His patient starred at them a long while before taking the whole assortment of pills proscribed and dry swallowing them. Rick was amazed that Dean took them. The Brown suspected that the Winchester just wanted to be left alone and kill himself in peace. The ex-soldier was glad that they took all sharp objects away and left Dean in a white t-shirt and gray hospital pants.

"I'll come by later to check on you," Rick said as he got up from sitting on Dean's iron framed bed. Dean mumbled something unintelligible and looked up at him.

"Don't go that way pervert," the Winchester mumbled while gazing at the doctor with dull eyes. Rick cracked a smiled.

"Neither do I Dean," the doctor said but knew that Dean didn't really hear him. The dirty blond laying on the bed just stared into nothingness. Rick gave out a heavy sigh and walked out the room. The psychiatrist walked down the hall to a door, unlocked with a card key and walked through several more before getting to his office. To his surprise there someone already in there. A man in a trench coat. Rick scoffed and sat at his desk.

"The hell you want?" Rick asked angrily. Figures a damn angel come by to check up on him. The Brown didn't really hate the angels just wasn't as forgiving as most would towards the celestial beings. The man in the trench coat turned away from the small book shelf in the just as small office.

"You said you'd be looking for the artifacts," the man stated with a monotone voice. Rick closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"I told you before, Castiel. I'd look into it but I've been busy with other things like the storm coming my way and Dean Winchester," Rick said while looking for his phone as it started its text message sound; an arrow shooting into someone and that someone saying 'message for you sir' (3). Castiel started reaching for a folder when Rick slapped at his hand.

"Hands off angel boy. You go see Dean yourself if you want to learn what became of him," Rick stated without looking up from his phone. He would reply to it later. The ex-soldier heard a flap of feathers and let out sigh. The Brown rubbed his tired eyes with his fingers before going to visit his other patients.

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Meanings:

1) The jar reference did actually occur. Met a Marine recruitor who had three jars on his shelf and told me that depending on if the recruits heads fitted in the jar then they could join. If they're heads were to big that meant they were too smart to join.

2) My dad's an ordain minister. So he can marry people as long as they have the marriage cerificate.

3) If you don't know this from Monty Python then I suggest watching the Holy Grail and finding out for yourselves.

**A/N 2:** Hoped you enjoyed this new piece of work of mine. If you have any questions please drop in a review and I'll answer it in the next chapter.


	2. Of Demons and Shamans

**Disclaimer: **Back I say. Back! I told you I don't own! Please I'm only using them to entertain, nothing else. *Uses chair to push back angry wives of the main characters*

**Author's Note:** Any name mentioned in this story are names of friends of mine.

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**Chapter 2: Of Demons and Shamans.**

Patrick Brown watched his patient draw on a piece of paper like a five year old. Dean smiled as he showed the picture to him. Three stick figures and what Rick assumed was a car was drawn on the burrowed paper. The Winchester pointed to one of the stick figures with wavy hair.

"That Sammy," Dean stated. "That Dad." The dirty blond point one with a beard on the circle head and then pointed to the last one. "And that me." Rick nodded.

"Do you want it hung up?" the doctor asked. Dean beamed at him and nodded. "Alright. We'll hang it in your room later. Now Dean you were talking about your dream last night. What do you remember?" The Winchester looked up in thought much like a five year old would do when trying to remember something.

"Sammy telling me 'I got him Dean'. I don't understand. What does he mean about 'I got him'? Who he got?" Dean asked. Rick nodded and jotted a note in his notebook.

"It's a memory Dean. You're remembering something about your brother. As who he caught, I haven't a clue. That is something only you know," Rick said. Dean looked at him confused.

"Only I know?" the Winchester asked. The ex-soldier nodded again.

"You've got it locked away somewhere and only you can get it," Rick explained while tapping his head with his right index finger.

"Only I can get it," Dean repeated. "How do I get it?"

"It's something you have to figure out Dean. Now why don't we get some lunch. I suppose you're hungry," Rick smiled. Dean beamed again and jumped from his seat.

"Will Sammy come?" Dean asked excitedly. Rick stood and came around his desk.

"Sam's waiting for us after you finish your lunch," Rick said. Dean laughed.

"Yay!" Dean throw his arms in the air like a child. Patrick put an arm around Dean's shoulders and led him to the door. The doctor opened it and talked to the orderlies outside.

"Take Dean to the cafeteria for some lunch," the high priest instructed one. He turned to the other one. "Hang this picture in Dean's room please." Rick handed the second orderly the picture and some tape. Both orderlies nodded and did as they were instructed. The ex-soldier sighed and closed the door after seeing Dean go down the hall towards the cafeteria.

"Oh God this going to be a long journey," Rick stated after taking a seat behind his desk. After two weeks of Dean being here; the Winchester had attacked two orderlies, two now three times reverted to a five year old, twice attacked his brother (who has visited everyday expect on the weekends), and once has remained sane long enough to tell Rick that he didn't belong there and that the Winchester was in fact sane enough to be out.

Suddenly Rick felt a psychic slap on the back of his head. He glared at the ceiling and then shook his head.

"I know. I know. I shouldn't think bad thoughts," he said to no one but himself. He just been thinking maybe Dean was better off killing himself. Rick was just utterly tired. With the storm heading his way he had little time to prepare himself. He was doing it between work and going to sleep which he had little of. Going to the Astral Plane can get a bit tiring after a while considering Rick was going there mainly to look for Dean's astral self. Part of everyone's self is sometimes on the Astral Plane. The Brown hoped that he could find Dean before the coming storm but knowing the Brown family luck that wasn't going to happen.

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Dean starred at his untouched lunch. He felt sick to his stomach and hadn't touched it. The blood that he saw, he knew it wasn't real but part of his mind told him it was. The orderly, William, was looking at the Winchester with evident concern.

"You okay kiddo?" Will asked. Dean started to nod then shook his head.

"Feel sick," the Winchester replied.

"That's the side effect of the meds you're taking. Just eat a little of your lunch and I'm sure Dr. Rick will let you see your brother," the orderly explained. Dean nodded slowly and tried to ignore the blood on the table. The Winchester nibbled at his toast and looked around the cafeteria. Several patients like him were out and about. He swallowed a small piece before looking up at Will.

"Is it alright to see Sammy now?" Dean sounded weak then and he hated when he sounded weak. Will nodded and picked up Dean's tray. The dirty blonde waited until Will came back before standing up. He followed the orderly to the visiting area where his brother waited.

Sam stood when Dean entered the room. His older brother was scanning for him before letting his gaze fall on the younger. Dean made a visible wince before walking over. The elder Winchester had his hands on his biceps and rubbed them up and down to keep the goose bumps away.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean tried to smile but failed miserably. Sam took noticed and gently led his older brother to a chair.

"How've you been, Dean?" Sam pretended to be concerned. The younger Winchester had the sudden sense that he was being watched.

"Okay, I guess. Rick's been really nice. He's not like the normal shrinks we talk to," Dean replied. Sam was a bit confused at Dean because for the past two weeks he never showed any type of sane. This was the first time that Sam's brother actually was talking like a five year old or trying to kill him.

"You guess?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, kinda seeing things. They're creepy," Dean said.

"What things?" Sam asked next. His older brother looked up with a confused look on his face.

"Who are you again?" Dean asked instead. "You look familiar but I can't put a name to your face." Sam let out a heavy sigh and took a hold of one of his brothers hands.

"I'm brother, Sam. Remember? You rescued me when I was a baby from a fire. Dad gave you me and to told you to run," Sam said a bit frustrated. He was getting somewhere and his brother just 'spaced out'. Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of the memory.

"Oh, sorry Sam. What were we talking about?" Dean replied.

"About the things you're seeing," Sam stated.

"Blood, Sammy. It's on everything. And oh God the screams," Dean used his remained hand to put it to his temple. "My head hurts. It's like someone's keeps screaming my name. But not the name I use right now. No something else." Dean looked up hopefully to his brother.

"Should I say something? Call out to them?" Now Sam was utterly confused. Who would telepathically reach out to his older brother?

"Have you talked to Dr. Brown about this?" Sam asked. Dean blinked then slowly shook his head.

"Should I? I don't want him to think I'm crazy," the elder Winchester stated.

"Dean, you're locked up in a psych ward. Everybody else thinks you're crazy anyway. Besides your doctor is there to help you. If you don't talk to him you won't get out," Sam stated. Dean nodded and gripped his younger brother's hand tighter. For the next hour the brothers talked but Sam did most of the talking considering Dean would get distracted or forget what they were talking about. When the hour was over, Sam embraced Dean into a hug thinking that's what he's suppose to do and to pretend that he did have a soul.

"Get well, Dean," Sam said. "I need a hunting a partner." Dean just nodded and watched as Sam left. He stood there for a few moments looking at the floor. The dirty blond felt hands on his shoulders and flinched.

"You alright hun?" a woman asked beside him. She was a bit heavy set and her blond hair had some gray in it. Her name tag told him her name was Linda. Dean shook his head.

"Let me hear that gorgeous voice of yours," Linn said. She winked at him.

"N….No I'm not," he stuttered. She smiled.

"It's alright. Why don't I take you back to your room?" Linda said.

"That'd be great," Dean replied still stuttering.

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Later That Night…

"He's been out most of the night. You're sure that….." Samuel was cut off by Rick who the hunter was mentioning.

"I can still hear you from the Astral Plane, Samuel. Don't start questioning my motives," the Brown stated with his mind still on the Astral. "You're grandson was a pain in the ass to find but I found him." Rick opened his eyes and sat up.

"So where was he?" Bobby asked.

"Most dangerous part of the Astral. Not a place where a white witch would tread. Lucky for me I'm the neutral type," Rick stated while getting up.

"So my grandson's alright?" Samuel asked concerned. The retiree shook his head.

"No. From what I could see it looked like Dean was being tortured. Set on a rack or something. Sometimes when a soul is broken the Astral self will reflect memories even when in a different form." The trio stared at the Brown confused. "The Astral self is different than our physical form. That form reflects what we really are. Like me. On the Astral I'm a phoenix."

"Can you take one of us to see him?" Sam asked. Rick set his blue eyes on him.

"You're not ready to go there. None of you are," the high priest stated. "I don't think you will ever be. In this life time anyway. If I do teach you guys it'll be like stuffing twenty fire hoses in your mouths and turning on the water. Frankly you might end up where Dean is."

"Isn't there a spell you can do to get him back?" Samuel asked. Rick narrowed his eyes then sat back down on the couch.

"I'd like to stay away from spells if you don't mind and even you do," Rick stated. "I can do a ritual and call upon the towers to help us. I get a hold of my friend Pat and see if he can help." The Brown let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his cigarette case and pulled out one. The ex-soldier put the cigarette to his lips and lit it with his lighter.

"Not a word, Bobby. Not a word," Rick said after taking a drag and pointed with his two of his fingers that held his death-by-lung-cancer devise. He flicked a bit of ash into the ashtray sitting on the coffee table.

"Well, ya gonna contact this idjit?" Bobby asked irritated. Rick took another drag of his smoke.

"In the morning. It's the middle of the night. I have work and so…..well considering he's guiding the dead, so does he," the Brown stated.

"What do you mean he's guiding the dead?" Samuel asked.

"Dude he's dead himself. Know anyone better than a Reaper to get a soul back together?" the ex-soldier said while taking another drag.

* * *

3:27 A.M….

Rick flipped through a page of his Book of Shadows when a sudden chill came into the living room. Sam felt it too.

"Ya hollered brother?" said the scruffy looking man. The man reminded Sam of Bobby. Looked kind of like the old hunter too. Old baseball cap, torn t-shirt, and baggy jeans. Rick rubbed his eyes and took a drag of yet another cigarette.

"Yeah, I need you to put Dean Winchester's soul back together. I would do it but I already have enough Karma built up so I called you," Rick explained to the ghost.

"Let me bum a cigarette off of ya." The Brown smirked and took one out of his pack. Pat grabbed it then looked at Sam. It didn't come to as a surprise to Sam that the ghost began smoking like a living human. The only difference was the smoke swirled in Pat's dead form.

"So where's your soul kid?" the Reaper asked while blowing out and flicking the ash into the tray on the coffee table. Sam blinked and then shrugged.

"I haven't slightest idea. I came back soulless from the Pit," Sam replied. Pat snorted then finished the cigarette.

"Damn demons," Pat turned back at Rick. "Anyway, I'll see about your boy. Ya worry about that storm coming your way." The Reaper took one finally drag before putting it in the ashtray and disappearing into a mist.

"Storm?" Sam questioned. Rick finished his cigarette and put it out.

"Does not concern you. Wake me at six," the Brown stated, promptly curled into a ball on the couch and fell asleep. Sam just shrugged and was about to look at Rick's Book of Shadows when he felt a huge psychic slap on the back of his head.

"Don't try it boy," a disembodied voice said. It sounded an awful like Rick's yet the man was snoring softly on the old couch. Sam rubbed the back of his head and he felt a small headache coming on.

* * *

Dean lay on his bed trying to put his messed up mind back together. But no matter how much he tried the Winchester felt trapped in his own mind. During the two weeks he knew what his body and part of his mind were doing. But when he was dreaming he was in Hell. Dean tried to keep his body awake but more ways than one it wouldn't obey his commands. Again he was dreaming of being on the rack. Being craved into but not by Alastair.

Tonight though was different. Dean's screams echoed into the darkness. The faceless tormentors laughed at his helplessness. One of them stabbed into his gut and he screamed. The Winchester cried out again, tears streaking down his face. Then a bright light pierced through the darkness. The tormentors hissed and moved away. For a moment Dean wasn't in pain. Wasn't screaming his lungs out. The light showed a form a humanoid form. The form had wings. The most beautiful thing Dean had seen in a long time.

The man, for it was a man approached him making his tormentors cringe away from him. The light surrounding the man illuminated his shaggy, long red hair. The man was tall. Really tall. Dean estimated about seven foot. The man's eyes were a bright green with a touch of gray in them. The man's wings were silver with the feather tips being gold. The red head wore robes like those friars in the old days would wear. The robes were rainbowed colored.

"I'm Huroog (1)," the tall man said something after his introduction but Dean couldn't make it out. "I'm here to help but you must hold out a little longer my friend. I'll come back for you, I promise."

"You don't belong here," one of Dean's tormentors hissed at the beautiful man. The man just starred and turned away.

"W…Wait. Please wait!" Dean shouted watching as the light diminished as Huroog left.

"I'll come for you. I promise," the Winchester heard the red head say. Darkness filled in and his tormentors were laughing at him again.

"No one's going to save you," one cackled. But Dean kept onto that hope that Huroog would come back for him. The red head did promise didn't he?

"He's not coming back for you. He lied," another one hissed while slicing into his arm. But Dean held onto the hope and ignored the pain. His body let out scream after scream but his mind (the part that was still sane) kept on hoping that he'd be out of this hell and in his body once more.

"Back off," Dean heard a gruff voice said. The elder Winchester had closed his eyes only to open them again to see a man looking like an Native American chief. He heard the tormentors gasp and felt them move back away from the rack Dean was upon.

"You'll be alright, boy. I got ya," the man said while pulling Dean off the rack. The Winchester felt no pain only warmth and comfort. The Native American laid him gently onto the ground.

"You're safe," the chief said the same word that Huroog had said (2). Dean suppose it was a name that he wasn't meant to hear. The elder Winchester felt the bliss of sleep come to him.

* * *

Meanings:

1) Huroog is pronouced Ha-roo-ga. It's also a name I made up for the man in this story.

2) It's the name for Dean on the Astral Plane. Like it says Dean isn't meant to hear it and also I don't know what to use for him.

**Author's Note:** Like last chapter if you have any questions let me know via review and I'll reply it in the next chapter. Reviews in general are nice to get.


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